The Lord is My Shepherd
by Code Green
Summary: Philip didn't ever think he could be more grateful for the things that his Lord had given him...until he met Syrena.


**I think Philip and Syrena were the best part of Stranger Tides. They are definitely my favorite love story out of all the pirate couples. Enjoy!**

**The Lord is My Shepherd**

_The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want._

He could see nothing but black, nothing but an empty darkness that filled his soul with fear. Like most men of his time, he didn't know how to swim, indeed, he had gone to sea to overcome his fear of the ocean, for surely nothing should have been feared save for God alone. A fear of one of God's most beautiful creations, the sea, was most certainly a flaw, and it was one that Philip had longed to overcome and had thought he had. Now, perhaps, was a lesson in humility, for as he was pulled through the murky depths, water swirling all about his body, threatening to suffocate him and hide him forever from the light so many feet above, he felt as though he most assuredly had provoked the good Lord's wrath is some way and was deserving of such a terror. But wait! Was he so swift to forget the grace that had been bestowed upon him? How careless to have forgotten that even now, even in this frightening place, he was wrapped securely in the arms of a young woman that he believed to be a symbol that angels did exist. He knew not where she took him, true, but he had instantly felt the healing of his deadly wound even as her soft lips, cool and gentle, had touched his own. He could not be ungrateful for such a gift, and he closed his eyes and silently sent a prayer of gratitude to his God even as a small hand slipped into one of his and a light appeared above, revealing that they were rapidly moving towards the surface of the waves.

_He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters._

The mermaid and the human came up out of the water, surfacing with a great explosion of water, sending the droplets flying about in all directions, turning different colors beneath the warm, welcoming rays of the sun. Philip gasped for breath, inhaling deeply the sweet air, smelling the salt of the sea and the lushness of a nearby island as he inhaled, gathering oxygen again into his body. His bare feet, boots long lost, touched the soft warmth of sand, warmed beneath that brilliant ball of fire above, and he stood, grateful to once again be standing on something firm and safe. He stumbled onto the shore of the island and then turned and collapsed, laughing on the sand as he stared up at the sun for just a moment. He then sat up and looked to the quiet waves, seeing his precious savior, his young mermaid, resting hesitantly on the sand bank beneath the waves, her dark eyes looking to him for leadership, her eyebrows narrowed just slightly in confusion. To her, he realized, the earth did not mean safety, but uncertainty. Her home was the ocean, and in it she felt safest.

_He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake._

No words needed to be spoken as Philip held out his hand, open and appealing to Syrena, and her deep eyes gazed steadily at the outstretched appendage. She could trust this man. She had known it since she had first seen him in the dinghy. He had been blessed with a certain peace even as her sisters attacked, even as he was threatened with death. He had been nothing but a good man when she had been forced to go ashore, forced into the captivity of men who wouldn't have minded harming her. She had never been afraid to be naked until that day, for the eyes of the pirates had all clung to her petite form with ravenous hunger, but then the missionary, that kind human, had provided her with clothing and had felt it in his heart to carry her when she could not walk. He was pure and gentle, kind and _different_. And for him, though he didn't yet realize it, she had left her entire world behind. There would be no going back to her sisters after this. She had broken every rule in saving the life of a human, something which, to her surprise, she found no regret in. Silently, she gazed at that offered hand, and then, gracefully, she raised her own hand out of the water and touched his palm, tracing it with her fingertips before she tenderly stroked his fingers. She let out a slight gasp when his fingers laced through hers, but she wasn't afraid as he carefully pulled her out of the water, gently brought her to sit next to him. Her eyes opened wide as she watched her beautiful tail, her scales, fading away, giving place to two limbs that she didn't find particularly attractive. What was so lovely about these ugly, useless things that took the place of her beautiful tail? Why had the men been so drawn to them, with something dark and frightening in their eyes?

_Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me._

Philip had no clothing to offer her, save for his vest, and he took it off with selfless sacrifice and handed it to Syrena.

"Why must I wear this?" she questioned, holding out her hand for the strange article. "I feel no fear with you, Philip."

"I fear myself," her kind rescuer spoke quietly. "You are beautiful, Syrena, and not only the other men saw you as such. You are lovely, and I would not want to harm you. For your sake, I give my vest to you. It is to protect you from my own ungodly wishing."

She knew the ways of men well enough to understand what he was speaking of. She saw a hunger in his eyes as well, though his hunger wasn't ravenous. He tried carefully to conceal his desire for her, and for it, she gave him the greatest of respect. It was well known that human men couldn't resist the seduction of a mermaid, for that was how the mermaids were designed to be and countless hundreds of sailors had willingly sacrificed their lives for one fleeting coupling with a mermaid. Syrena had never been with a man, being too young in her sisters' opinions, but she had known they found no satisfaction in taking from the men and then killing them. The physical act itself was spoken of with heated hatred amongst the mermaids, but in Philip's words, she didn't hear the hate. There was something deep in his voice, something that told her that, to him, or perhaps to his God, there was more to the matter of physical union than what her sisters had cared for. Perhaps there was something beautiful about it.

Thinking of her sisters caused her to suddenly feel lonely, and she shivered as she pulled on Philip's offered vest. It barely covered her, hiding only her chest, behind, and upper thighs as she pulled her knees up to her chin and then buried her face in her legs. What would a night without her sisters be like? A night without anyone save for her missionary? Would it be cold and unfriendly here on land? What was there to fear here, now that there were no pirates to harm her?

"It will all be well," Philip spoke softly, wrapping an arm carefully around her, as though uncertain. "You needn't stay with me, Syrena. I know that the ocean is your home, and I wouldn't desire to keep you away from what you love best, though heaven knows I wish to keep you to myself," he whispered, his breath warm against her shoulder.

"I love you, Philip," she smiled softly, turning her head to look into his face. "I cannot return. I belong to you. I need you to protect me, to show me your world, to teach me," she whispered. "My sisters will not let me go back. If I go back, they will kill me."

He saw tears trembling in her eyes, and he tenderly wiped them away before pulling her closer to him, so that she could rest her head against his chest. She remembered what it was like to be carried by him, and she sighed contentedly as she snuggled up closer to him, draping her legs awkwardly across his lap and then putting her arms around his neck, as they had once been. She heard him breathe in deeply, as though suddenly in pain or uncertain, and she looked up into his eyes.

"I love you too, Syrena," he said in a deep, choked voice. "When someone comes for us, I will protect you. I will teach you about the world, and I will teach you about our Lord Who brought you to me."

_ Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over._

Syrena gazed up thoughtfully into his eyes, studying him, amazed that a human could care so for her. That _she_ could care for a human. Her eyes drifted to his lips. How sweet and strange they had felt against her own mouth! She had never felt anything that had made her feel so warm as that touch had. Perhaps that was why she had ended the kiss so quickly; she had been afraid at the stirrings it had produced within her. She felt heat rushing to her cheeks as she thought about it, and she looked away. Perhaps he hadn't even liked her kiss. With his integrity and honor, maybe it offended him!

She was surprised to hear him quoting from his beloved Book to her.

_"Behold, thou art fair, my beloved, behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes."_

He smiled at her before touching her chin gently.

"I see concern in your face, Syrena. What is wrong?"

"My kiss," she said shyly, "it offended you?"

"No," Philip shook his head with a smile. "I had never been kissed before. I was delighted. I wished, I _wish_," he said softly, wrapping his arms carefully around her, "that I might..."

He trailed off, seeing the wonderful innocence looking up at him, those dark eyes so childlike and curious, and he simply couldn't help himself. God forgive him, but he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers again. She was soft and warm, and he smiled against her lips as she hummed contentedly and then pressed herself further against him, wanting to be closer. He felt her chest pressing against his, and he slowed his kisses, not wanting to frighten her or go too far. Kisses were beautiful things, not meant to be corrupted by things that only a married couple should indulge. Kisses were even supposed to be shared between married couples, but given the situation and all that he and the beautiful mermaid had been through, perhaps this was appropriate and even right.

_ Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever._

Syrena understood her missionary's desire to remain careful with her, and she pulled her mouth away from his first before smiling up at him, a tear trickling from the corner of her eyes. He kissed her cheek tenderly and then stood up, placing her gently on the sand before he did so. He looked down the beach, seeming to be deep in though, and then he took her hands gently in his and began to draw her to her feet. She understood that he wished to teach her to walk, preferably before they were rescued. She had no doubt that a ship would be coming their way sometime in the next twenty-four hours, for between the Spanish, the English, and the pirates, someone was bound to find them. Perhaps it was her Philip's desire to teach her well enough so that no one should ever know what she was, and he was right in doing so.

She took in a deep breath and then stood, immediately falling against him as her legs tried to buckle, but never falling. He wrapped an arm carefully about her middle and then took a step, bringing her with him. Gently, he began to instruct her, in hushed words, on how to bend her leg and move forward, taking one long, painful step at a time. The ground hurt her sensitive feet, but he promised her he would care for her and her feet wouldn't hurt for long. He was patient and loving, and by the time the sun began to sink on the horizon, she was moving slowly but steadily along with him, stepping in time with him, moving with him down the beach.

The golden and red rays of the bright star cast its spell over the young couple, promising them hope and love for the future, assuring them of the start of a beautiful new life together.


End file.
